Page 50 of The Beach Trap

With his hands on my hips, he shifts me so I’m right on top of him, my chest on his chest, my thighs on his thighs. My body goes tingly and hot. We just moved into dangerous territory.

“What about this?” I whisper, and rock my pelvis against him.

He lets out a sharp exhale. There is definitely something stirring in his pants, and my body responds with another rush of heat.

“That’s good. Very good.” His voice is strained. “But this would be even better.”

He leans toward me and I’m right there with him, ready to feel his lips on mine again. This kiss is hungrier than the one on the beach, and when his tongue meets mine a soft groan escapes my mouth.

We kiss in that position for what feels like an eternity, his hands on my hips, holding me in place, the intensity growing between us until I think I might die if he doesn’t touch my skin. Finally, his hands slide under my shirt to my rib cage, his fingers warm and greedy. He stops before he gets to my bra, though, and I bite at his lower lip, frustrated. Then I bring my knees up so I’m straddling him. Just to make my intentions clear.

“Jesus, Blake,” he gasps, then pulls away slightly. “This might be a stupid question, but you’re good with this, right? After what you said earlier, I want to—”

In response, I grind against him. “I’m more than good with this.”

“Let the record show,” he says, his voice shaky, “that the lady is in favor of proceeding. All in favor, say aye.”

“Aye,” I whisper, and then he’s kissing me again, fierce and breathless. His body is lean and strong, and I run my hands up his arms to his shoulders, down his torso, then slide my handsunder his shirt to his chest. “Can this come off?” I say, tugging at his shirt.

“You’ve been wanting to do that since the day you first saw me,” he says, smirking.

“Yeah, yeah, I was ogling you. Now take it off.”

He laughs, and then his voice dips lower. “You have no idea what I’ve been thinking about every time I see you in these little cutoff shorts. Dirty, dirty thoughts. You would blush if you knew.”

“Tell me.” My hands are fisted in his shirt, ready to yank it over his head, but I pull back so I can see his face.

His cheeks are ruddy, his hair disheveled. “First off, I’ve been wanting to do this.” His hands slide into my shorts until he’s cupping my butt. I suck in a breath as his fingers slip under the hem of my underwear. “And then I want to—”

There’s a popping sound outside and the dog leaps from his spot at the foot of the bed, barking hysterically.

We spring apart. “What’s wrong?” I say to the dog.

Then I hear another scattering of pops. It’s fireworks—the ones people set off in their driveways. The dog yelps again, whimpering.

“Seriously, people?” I mumble, irritated. The Fourth of July is a week away. I pull the dog toward me. He’s trembling with fear, and I pat him gently.

Stupid people, scaring my dog.

I glance back at Noah; he’s flopped against the bed, breathing heavily. His hair is messy, his shirt twisted to the side, and he has a stunned look on his face.

I can’t help laughing. “You look like a horny teenager who was getting busy behind the bleachers and got interrupted by the principal.”

He puffs out his cheeks, then exhales slowly. “That’s prettymuch how I feel.” He blinks a few times and runs his hands through his hair, then sits up and leans toward the dog. “How’s my P. Diddy? You okay, little guy?”

The dog inches toward Noah until he’s snuggled between us. Noah runs his big hands through the dog’s soft fur, slow and soothing, until he stops trembling.

“All right,” Noah says quietly, then looks at me. “I’m going out of town for a while. Leaving early tomorrow morning.”

I nod, remembering he said he’d be gone when the Rooneys came for the Fourth. “We better call it a night, then.”

Probably for the best.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

KAT

The calendar is not working in my favor this week. I’m supposed to be driving back to Atlanta tomorrow—two days before the Fourth of July, which happens to be one of my favorite times of the year in Destin.

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